


Of Gifts and Anniversaries

by lenasmagic (dimensionhoppingrose)



Series: Weblena Month 2019 [5]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Anniversary, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, I need angst to cleanse my soul now, just a lil bit, oh my god the fluff, tooth rottinglysweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 21:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20180992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimensionhoppingrose/pseuds/lenasmagic
Summary: Lena is terrible at most things. And yes, that includes anniversaries. Almost especially.-Weblena Day 6: Gifts-





	Of Gifts and Anniversaries

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sweetest fucking thing I've ever written. Enjoy XD

“I think I’d rather fight Magica. Again.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

Lena groaned, dropping her head on the table, then scowling when Miss Quackfaster scolded her with a violent  _ “Shush _ !”

“Cram it crazy old lady.”

Violet looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow. “Getting us kicked out of the library will accomplish nothing. You’re worrying too much.”

“Am I?”

Of course. Webigail doesn’t care if you give her anything for your anniversary, or even if you remember.”

“Do you even  _ know _ her? Of course she cares! Remember how upset she was when she found out I didn’t have a birthday?”

“And the two months of planning your first surprise party that followed? Yes, I remember quite well. But that was a  _ you _ thing, not a couple thing. It’s different.”

“Yeah, this is way more important.” Lena sighed loudly, earning another glare from the librarian. “You want something, lady?”

Violet dove across the table to cover Lena’s mouth, waving Miss Quackfaster off. She glared at them both before stalking off into the shelves. “And you two say  _ I _ have no awareness of social etiquette,” she muttered, shifting back to her seat.

“I have plenty of awareness, I’m just not in the mood for her particular brand of crazy today.” Lena slumped back in her seat.

“You’re overthinking this. Just do something simple. Take her for a picnic. Acknowledge that you remember the day, and that it’s important to you, and you know it’s important to her.”

“She deserves  _ more _ than that.” Violet sighed inwardly, looking over the top of her book again. Lena had that  _ look _ in her eyes — the same one Webby got when she was about to wax poetic about how wonderful her girlfriend was.

“I know, I know, she’s the moon and the stars and the sun and everything that shines and makes the world bright and warm.”

Lena snapped out of it, blinking at Violet. “Do I  _ sound _ like that?” The hummingbird nodded. “Gross.”

“I get it from both of you. Imagine how I feel.”

Lena rested her chin in her hand, looking longingly out the window. “I can never give her anything that even comes close to what she’s given me.”

“The ability to live a somewhat normal if unconventional life is certainly one of the greatest gifts a person can offer. But I don’t think you’re supposed to be competing over who has the best gift ideas.”

“Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.” Family didn’t compete to be the best. It was an on-going lesson. Lena tapped her pencil against the top of her head, staring blankly at her notebook. “Yeah, I know.”

“You’re still stressed out about it, though.” Lena nodded, and Violet closed her book, setting it aside. “You know Webigail better than anyone, aside from maybe her grandmother.  _ Maybe _ . Whatever you decide to give to her, or do for her, I have no doubt she will love it, because in her eyes, there’s nothing you can do wrong.”

“That’s true. I  _ did _ sort of betray her and she still agreed to date me, after all.”

“Exactly. So go easy on yourself. And trust that you know what you’re doing.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaand you lost me again.”

“Of course I did.”

* * *

Lena had fallen asleep waiting up for Webby, who slipped into her room well after midnight, making sure to leave the door open just enough to satisfy Beakley’s rules while giving them some privacy. Webby smiled when she saw Lena sprawled over her bed, sketchpad resting next to her. Oooooh. Webby danced quietly across the room, gently scooping the pad up. Lena didn’t share her work very often; sometimes Webby had to take a chance and peek on her own. And it never disappointed.

She’d clearly started working on something new — the pencil lines were too faint to make out in the moonlight, though Webby could just make out words…

“Mmm..?” Lena stirred and yawned, eyes flickering open. Webby quickly set the sketchpad aside and swooped in to kiss Lena before she caught Webby snooping. “Oh, hey.” Lena laughed, catching Webby’s cheek with her palm to keep her in place. “I was beginning to think you guys were never coming home.”

“Nah, Dewey just got caught in a death trap… again.”

“Damn it, Dewey.”

“Tell me about it.” Webby flopped down to lie with Lena, who snuggled sleepily into her. “It wasn’t even a  _ good _ death trap.”

“Sssshhh.” Lena pressed a finger to Webby’s beak. “You’re home now. Sleep.”

Webby giggled, tucking herself into Lena and tugging the blankets over both of them. She rested her head on Lena’s chest, immediately find her heartbeat — the only lullaby she needed.

“Hey Lena?”

“Hmmmm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” Lena murmured with a sleepy, loopy little grin. That would never get old.

* * *

The month leading up to their anniversary was a busy one, with the McDanger Prone crew leaving practically every other day for another treasure or something. Lena was literally biting her knuckles the week before, torn between terror that Webby was going to be  _ gone _ and all of this work would’ve been for nothing — sure, they could do it another day, but that wasn’t  _ nearly _ as much fun — and fury and at the old man. Couldn’t he  _ retire _ already?

“Do you know what next week is?”

Scrooge looked up from his paper, bewildered. He’d been under the impression he was alone in the dining room, with the kids having already come and gone.

But there was Lena, sitting right next to him, looking rather cross. It was terrifying how much she looked like Magica in those moments. Not that he could  _ ever _ say that. “Sorry?” He raised an eyebrow. Lena narrowed her gaze.

“Next week. Do you know what next week is?”

“The… third week of the month? Oh, you have therapy, right?”

“What? No — well, yes, actually, but different day.” Lena waved it off. “And it’s  _ barely _ therapy anymore. No, it’s mine and Webby’s anniversary.”

“Ah!” Scrooge chuckled. “Of course, I forget sometimes that you two haven’t always been—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, save it,” Lena said hurriedly. “With the way you’ve been scheduling  _ adventures _ lately, there’s no way she’s going to be  _ home _ for it, and I have plans.”

“Oh? Well that’s—” The light clicked on as Scrooge realized what was happening. “You’re here to threaten me, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

Scrooge sighed. “What day?”

“Friday, the twenty-third.”

The old duck slipped a notepad and a pen out of his pocket, writing that down. “Noted. She’ll be home for it.”

Lena immediately flipped switches, smiling brightly. “Great, thanks Scrooge!”

She bounced away, and Scrooge looked after her as Beakley walked in with more tea. “That girl is terrifying sometimes.”

“My granddaughter has good taste.”

* * *

Webby Vanderquack, as a rule, didn’t generally sleep in.

She was  _ very much _ a morning person, up with the sun and ready to go. Everyone in the mansion had grumbled at her about it at one point or another, even Beakley and Lena (especially Lena when they woke up together every single morning).

Lena had taught her the value of sleeping in, though. The teen had suffered from constant insomnia since coming back from the Shadow Realm, to the point where they’d had to drug her to sleep more than once for her own health. Those times when she slept on her own were special, and Webby never wanted to ruin them.

Besides, if she could relax in Lena’s arms for a little longer, what was the point? The sun could wait.

Which was why it was a little odd when Lena woke her  _ well _ before sunrise — at about two a.m. “Hm?” Webby yawned, rubbing her eyes and rolling to look at Lena. “What’s—”

She was cut off by a kiss — not at all unwelcomed, of course. She giggled, snuggling closer and resting her forehead against Lena’s when they separated. “You’re up early. Or late. Have you slept?”

“No,” Lena admitted with a small shrug and a smile. “It’s all right, though, I didn’t expect to.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s kind of silly, but I have… plans. Do you know what today is?”

“Today…?” Webby lit up. “Our anniversary!” She hadn’t wanted to make a huge deal about it because she knew Lena wasn’t great at keeping dates straight, and she didn’t want to make her feel bad. Which made it all the more thrilling that Lena had remembered. “Does it have to start at two a.m.?”

“Well, no. But I kind of have a thing… if you want… I mean…”

_ She had planned something _ . “Like an adventure?”

Lena grinned. “Yeah. It’ll be like an adventure.”

Webby squealed and practically flew out of bed. “Meet me at Broomstick!” Lena called after her. 

Scrooge McDuck was a lot of things, but oblivious — contrary to how he acted sometimes — wasn’t one of them. He’d known just by looking at Lena that she would never want some insanely expensive car like Dewey or Louie, or something completely practical like Huey, or something that could be customized for the apocalypse like Webby. She just wanted something she could drive. Something simple. Something big enough for her and for Webby and for the spontaneous road trip they would almost certainly take someday.

And that was what he had given her. A simple, four-door, silver car which Webby had nicknamed Broomstick, and which had stuck despite Lena’s half-hearted protests. The back window and bumper had been plastered with different decals, including a custom one Webby had gotten done from one of Lena’s drawings of a cat. That was probably Lena’s favorite.

Webby found Lena sitting on Broomstick’s hood, playing absentmindedly with her phone. “So where’re we going?”

Lena looked up, and grinned. “Everywhere.”

That was the only answer Webby could get out of her until they arrived at their first destination — a playground. A playground? A— 

“Playground!” Webby burst out finally, realization setting in. It was the playground they’d run to after escaping the Beagle Boys. She looked at Lena, who was reaching into the back seat for a manilla envelope.

“Playground. Lezzgo.”

And in two words, they were kids again, sprinting across the playground to the carousel and laughing as they hopped on, sitting next to each other and sending it spinning with their momentum. Even Lena had been at her freeist that night — before her real job had started, when she could pretend she was just some bad influence teenager looking for a new friend to corrupt. Webby, meanwhile, had still been working her way out of her sheltered life, hadn’t known anyone outside of the mansion but the boys, and had probably been at her most vulnerable. Trusting Lena had been  _ horrible _ .

And it had been the best idea she’d ever had.

“Hang on.” Lena put her foot down to drag them to a stop, and Webby looked up to see the moon looming over them, bright and welcoming.

“What’re you—”

Lena answered by pulling a frame out of the envelope and holding it up so it was directly in front of the moon. There was a piece of paper in the frame, trapped between two panes of glass and allowing the moonlight to shine through it. It took a moment, but the piece of paper started to glow blue, with white lines traced into it. Written at the top were the words  _ She is the moon _ in a loopy, cursive script that could  _ only _ be Lena’s. Drawn underneath was Webby’s outline, bathed in moonlight. It almost looked like she was dancing.

“Whooooooooooooooa.” Webby stared up at the picture, awestruck. That is so  _ cool _ .

“Wait, there’s more…” Lena said slowly, shifting the carousel just a bit to get them under starlight. The colors shifted slightly to a dark-blue-purple, the words changed to read,  _ ands the stars _ , and Webby’s arms moved over her head, like a ballerina.

“How did you—?!”

“Magic.” Lena grinned at her. “There’s more, but we have a couple hours to kill. Picnic?”

Beakley had helped Lena prepare a delightfully — if somewhat cold — British breakfast, complete with crumpets, eggs, bacon, toast, and even some tea that neither of them liked, but they took sips just to maintain the image. And then switched to water and soda after.

Lena’s phone went off, and she checked it before starting to pack up their breakfast. “Come on, we have somewhere to be.”

“We do?”

“Yup.”

The sun was just starting to inch up over the horizon when they pulled up in front of an apartment building. Webby looked up at it, tilting her head.

“What’s this place?”

“You’ll get it in a minute,” Lena promised, taking her hand and leading her inside. They road the elevator up to the top floor, and Lena pick-locked their way up to the roof.

“Oh!” Webby bounced out to the middle of the roof, spinning around. It was the roof they’d climbed up to after escaping… whichever brothers.

“Come on.” Lena took Webby’s hand, leading her over to the electric box they’d sat on and tugging her up. She had the frame ready to hold up in front of the rising sun. This time the colors were purple, dark orange, and dark yellow, with Webby mid-pirouette and the words “and the sun” written over her head.

“Wow…”

They only got a few minutes before a security guard caught them, and Lena grabbed Webby’s hand, pulling her into the shadows before the guard even saw their faces. They came out at the bottom of the building, laughing. “My dear,” Lena said, opening the car door for Webby.

“Why thank you.” Webby bowed before dropping into her seat.

Their next stop was a little further away, but immediately recognizable — the Beagle Boys’ junkyard. They didn’t go in or do much anything to keep their presence a secret, but they gang knew by now not to mess with the McDuck girls. They sat on Broomstick’s roof while Lena held up the frame. This time it was shades of pink and lighter orange and yellow, with the outline in purple, and Webby finishing her spin, the words and  _ everything that shines _ written in the clouds. 

Their final destination was predictable, but Webby was still giggling and bright-eyed as they walked onto the amphitheatre stage, and Lena held the frame up to the freshly raised sun. The sky was pink and yellow, with Webby sitting in a field, smiling at the clouds with the words  _ and makes the world bright and warm _ . Lena took Webby’s hand, tugging her over to the edge of the stage, and they sat down. Lena lit up a small ball of light in her hand and held the frame out to Webby. She took the hint and held the frame carefully over the light. And the full picture slowly shimmered to life, morphing through the colors and Webby’s movements, except this time Webby saw a second outline as well, moving in time to her own movements. It was somewhere around sunrise when she realized it was Lena outlined in shadows. It ended with the two of them kneeling on the ground together, holding hands, both in full color. Written in the clouds above their heads:

_ She’s the moon _

_ and the stars _

_ and the sun  _

_ and everything that shines _

_ and makes the world bright and warm _ .

“Oh…” Webby breathed, eyes wide. “Lena this is… this is  _ amazing _ . It’s  _ beautiful _ . How did you…?”

Lena shrugged, trying not to blush. “Ya know… magic.”

Webby threw her arms around Lena, pulling her close and kissing her. “I love you,” she whispered, their foreheads resting against each other. “Man, I just made us wood rings. They’ve got crystals in them but it seems kind of lame compared to all this.”

“What’re you gonna do when you run out of jewlery to make us?”

“Guess I’ll just have to marry you.”

“Wha—”

Lena was cut off by another kiss.


End file.
